


The Apprentice

by Bluegamerchick



Series: Of Pirates and Clockworks [1]
Category: Pirate101 (Video Game)
Genre: Apprenticeship, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, characters to be added too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25078768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluegamerchick/pseuds/Bluegamerchick
Summary: Portia is an apprentice working under Bishop. The only reason she had join him and the Armada was because of dimwitted brother, who stole something from them. So, to keep him safe, she joined the Armada, to destroy any records of him or what he does. But, even then, she has to keep that hidden, fearing she'll be thrown into prison or worse...
Series: Of Pirates and Clockworks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820101
Kudos: 1





	1. The Workshop

I was never happy with the outcome that came to me working for...them. But, nevertheless, if it meant keeping the dimwit I so dearly call my own brother safe, then so be it.

The sound of gears whirling and the clank of robotical soldiers filled my ears as I rushed to my work place. My eyes darted around beneath my goggles as I scanned the halls to see if any of the Armada soldiers would block my way. As of luck, none did it. Making it easy for me to reach the workshop I call my work place.

Quietly as I could, I opened the doors before quickly closing them once I entered. 

“You are early Portia” an all too familiar voice spoke.

“Being early means we can get more work done and I will have more time to learn the trade of building our fine soldiers, Bishop, sir” I answered him, bowing my head a bit, not making eye-contact with him even if my goggles blocked outsiders from my eyes.

The tinker barely moved his head from his current project before giving an oh so subtle nod, before turning his attention back to whatever he was building.

“Now that you are here, could you please hand me-”

“The screwdriver?” I finished his question, presenting the screwdriver in my hand.

The mad tinker let out a strange little noise that I have come to know as a laugh. “Good girl” he praised before grabbing the screwdriver and going back to his work.

And that was how the day went, like many others before this one. He would request a tool and I would deliver. Sometimes he would ask me to move something or adjust something, but that was usually all. When I first started to help him, I was a bit in awe of everything I will admit. How with a simple spark of electricity, he could get a clockwork to move from it’s deep slumber. But, now?

Now I find it dull. It had lost its charm.

Not like we did it anymore though.

Bishop, what you could call my boss, grew obsessed with building spark based weapons even more powerful than the average sparkthrowers which makes me worry for Ethan’s sake. But by now, for all I know Ethan is somewhere far away, safe from the Armada. I doubt it though.

The sound of metal creaking and metallic joints popping into place broke me of my stream of thought.   
Bishop stood up with the help from his..cane? Staff?

I still yet to understand what it was.

I watched as he slowly began to straighten up back, almost like a wind-up toy soldier. I had to suppress the urge to chuckle at the picture of that, for in all honesty, they were all like wind-up soldiers, just less adorable and more terrifying looking.

Bishop picked up the item he was working on. It was some kind of rifle it looked like. I tilted my head as Bishop readied and aimed the thing. He nodded at me and quickly I set up targets for him to fire at. Once they were in place, I took my cover, already having a feeling at how well this one will go.

Bishop soon fired a shot, and just like that, my hunch was right.

The ball of concentrated electricity bounced around the room, nearly missing Bishop and I. It wasn’t long before the thing ended up shooting up at the ceiling and destroyed the light source up there.

“Blasted!” Bishop yelled, slamming the rifle back down on the table.

I quietly moved myself from out behind my hiding spot before making my way over to the clockwork tinker. 

Bishop was back to his usually stance, hunched over, using his staff as support. He was staring up at the ceiling’s light, the hand on his staff tapping every so softly.

I stared at him in confusion.

He held up a finger at me, as to tell me to be silent, which was fine with me. I rarely liked speaking to any of them, but it still confused me as to what he was doing.

Soon, he stopped tapping his staff.

“Thirty seconds and the lights have not short-circuited. Which means the blast from the prototype is not strong enough to take out-”

As if on cue, the lights soon cut off, interrupting Bishop.

“...make that thirty-one, roughly thirty-two seconds” the tinker corrected himself.

The tinker let out a metallic ringing sigh, before shifting a bit and facing me. “Well, it seems your time today has been cut short, you are free to go, so go scurry off” He said, doing a small shooing motion with his hand.

I gave a small now and thanked him for today before leaving him.

Once away from the workshop, I dared to remove the goggles from my eyes and my face mask. It was not rare for Bishop to shoo from the workshop after a light source had been blown up to nothing. It was rare for it to happen so early. 

As I turned my attention, I was soon greeted with the mid-afternoon sky. A small idea soon greeted my head.

It had been awhile since I explored the streets of Valencia. I’ve been so busy with work that anytime I have had freetime, I was pass out on my bed in my small corridors. 

And besides, it’s not like I was skipping out on work. I was quite finished for the day if Bishop shooing me out meant anything.

So, with a quick scan of the area, I quickly made my way down the hall and out into the streets of Valencia.


	2. The Streets of Valencia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the lights had gone out in Bishop's workshop, Portia decides to explore the streets of Valencia. All seems well, until a fight breaks out, reminding her why she rarely explores the streets.

I used to spend a lot of my childhood on these streets.

Selling silly little rocks, to sword-fighting with Ethan, even dancing.

But, that’s all in the pass now. Even though I wish it wasn’t.

I walked the streets quietly, humming softly to myself.

I remember a time when the streets used to bustle with life, children playing outside, people singing their hearts out as they did chores. Or in a more thuggish light, see the gamblers play Blackjack or Dice in the alleys and strange but shady trades in the deepest part of the alley. It was almost like a strange fairy-tale.

But, fairy-tales have happy endings, don’t they?

And as Valencia stood, did not have one.

Clockwork soldiers walk the streets, the sound of their gears and joints clunking as their feet hit the pavement echo even in the noisy districts. The unnerving fear of being caught doing the simplest thing, even if it was illegal, like stealing but crumbs of bread, only to be thrown into prison overshadowed everyone.

My heart ached for the simpler times. But, there was no point of longing for them for the past, as it only made the ache hurt more and more.

The sound of glasses being clicked and quiet laughter soon grabbed my attention. My gaze lifted to see the Mezzaluna Tavern. I tilted my head a bit. It was too early to be drinking, no? Then again, with the state of this world, I could blame others for wishing to drown their sorrows in the bottle.

I will admit, I was a bit tempted to go swing in and grab a simple pint of Yum Rum, but decided against it.

For starters, it was only the mid-afternoon, too early to even drink in my book.

Second off, I would rather not waltz back, slurring my words together like a bum and get thrown into jail or whatever they’ll do to me if I came back in that state.

And third off, the last time I drank enough to be drunk, Bishop gave me hell for coming in the next day while I was hungover.

To this day, I still am not sure if he was annoyed at me for coming in hungover and not resting, or if it was because I was late to work that day. Or it could have been the fact I was even drinking in the first place.

It’s not my fault, us squishy humans were built to thrive off of social interaction, which just so happen to involve a few pints of rum sometimes!

Did Bishop even-

….

What am I thinking?

I honestly doubt he does. 

Sure, I can, fearfully, respect him as my boss. And as much as I really don’t want to admit it, he was a genius with half the things he makes, buuuut….

I’m pretty sure, outside of myself, he really only speaks with the other Elites. Which, Spiral, I have no clue if that was often or not. Out of all the Elites I’ve seen him speak to was Rooke, but that was always for work, nothing leisure. Like,

“How was your day?”

“Oh just fine, how was your’s?”

Stuff like that.

Wait…

Do Clockworks even know how to do normal, no-work based conversation?

It would be interesting if they did, although, I have no clue what they would talk about. All they seem to talk about is work or the Commander.

Then again, I never really bothered to befriend one.

I would try, but also that may bite me back again. But then again, maybe if befriend an Elite I could-

“RIP IT TO SHREDS!”

“SHOW THAT BUCKET OF GEARS WHY IT SHOULDN’T PICK ON US!”

The yells of a crowd broke me of my thoughts and soon I found myself trying to find the source.

Once I made my way to the source, I was greeted by a small group of civilians crowded around what looked like a duel between a mouse and a clockwork. Curious, I pushed myself through the crowd up the front to get a better look at it.

I was greeted to the sight of a rugged looking mouse. She had a cut on her cheek that was bleeding, and looked like she had just run a marathon. The clockwork on the other hand, seemed worse for wear. I could see sparks fly off of it and what looked like oil drip from it. It could barely stand on its own two feet.

“Valencia belongs to the people, not you, oversized toys!” the mouse shouted, before lunging at it.

“Cease and desist and your punishment may not be as grave cit-” was all the clockwork could get out before the mouse threw it off balance.

The clockwork stumbled backward and nearly lost its footing completely, almost making it fall over. The sound of its gears whirring loudly, almost working overtime to keep it afloat. Rugged breathing came out as well.

“A newer model” I mused to myself.

It had slipped my mind that Bishop had designed newer models with some kind of breathing system. Joy for me then.

The clockwork, a Marine model I know realized, it must have lost its shield in the middle of the fight. The Marine gripped its axe tightly once he regained his footing again.

I could see the mouse smirk at it, before lunging again, only to be greeted an axe blade way too close to the head for comfort. The mouse jumped back and tried to lunge again, but was greeted to the spear end of the axe.

This continued for Spiral knows how long.

It wasn’t long until both looked like they were both done for.

The people’s loud cheering continued, demanding the clockwork to be finished off. And as much as I fear and not really like them, it seemed a bit cruel to demand that.

Not like it would even matter. One clockwork gone wouldn’t matter to the Armada, they can make more. They all do realize this, yes?

But, like fate, or pure ignorant bliss, would have it, the crowd kept cheering and demanding the mouse finish off the Marine unit.

And by the looks of it, she was about to. A blade drawn, both hands on it, hovering just above the clockwork who slowly looked at her.

If it had eyes, I could only guess what those eyes would say.

Maybe angry? Sorrow? Nothing?

Not like it matters in the end, as a scream from someone in the crowd soon came.

“Scatter, they’re here!”

As if on cue, the people tried to scatter as a small group of clockworks came in. They easily overpowered any who fought back or tried to flee. 

The mouse who fought the now battrad Marine, was trying to fight off the other clockwork guards. Her yelling seemed louder and louder.

Her shouting combined with the sounds of metal and screams of a panic crowd began to hurt my head. I crouched down, in hopes to block out the sound. It only muffled it sadly.

My heart sank when I saw a musketeer unit pull out a pistol and for in a quick moment I closed my eyes.

The sound of the pistol being shot nearly engulfed all other sounds in the area.

All could be heard was the sound sparks, the sound of metal joints clicking into place, and the every so soft sound of gears.

I could hear the sound of footsteps approaching me and when I opened my eyes and uncovered my ears, I was greeted by a golden mask Marine. He looked down at me, before moving his shield to be held by his other hand, and shifted his weapon so it could lean on his shoulder. I could hear clicks in his body as he moved to lean down a bit, as he offered me his hand.

As I took it, I suddenly remembered why it had been so long since I explored the streets of Valencia.


	3. The Golden Mask Marine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of yesterday, rain soon comes to fit the somber mood. While Portia goes to work, she runs into the same Marine from yesterday.

Rain gently pelted against my window in the small space I called home.

Such a somber yet fitting mood after the events that conspired yesterday.

With a soft sigh, I got up from my bed and got dressed for work today. I pulled my hair up in the messy bun I have come acquitted with. Once that was done, I slipped on my goggles and mask.

I opened my door and took a quick peek outside.

More clockworks than usual.

I can’t say I’m shocked in all honesty. The clockworks hate getting wet, does something to their inner workings I think. Possibly makes them rust or makes the joints rust at least. Or maybe it’s the fact they short-circuit when they get wet?

So, it made sense why they were all inside, either training, passing messages from one Commander to another and so on.

If I closed my eyes and blocked out all the sound of their gears, I could easily imagine this being a normal day in Valencia. People running around, doing their job.

But, sooner or later, the sound of gears, humming of machines, and robotic joints snapping in place destroy that fantasy.

I shake my head, before fully opening my door. I quickly close it and make my way to the workshop.

As I made my way, the sound of clockwork soldiers filled my ears, just like the day before. And the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that one too, and so on.

However, unlike the day before, I was not as lucky to have no one block my way.

I quickly stopped myself two feet away from the clockwork standing in my way. I felt a chill run down my spine as it stood there, staring at me.

I know they sometimes do this, stopping dead in a hallway, staring at something random or in my case, me, before snapping out of it and going on their way.

I remember Bishop mentioning how some clockworks will stop dead in their tracks to process information. Although it was rarer in newer models who had quicker processing powers.

But this clockwork didn’t. He simply stood there, staring at me.

Was there something wrong with him? Were his joints locked up? Was he in a shut down like state?

“Hel-”

“You are the fair lady from yesterday, yes? The one that witnessed the little street fight?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin when it spoke that same deep, yet creepy voice most of the clockworks have. I recovered, but was tense as I nodded.

The Marine tilted his head at me. “Portia Galway, correct? You are one of Bishop’s underlings?”

That was a rude way of saying apprentice, but still I nodded to the clockwork. “Yes, yes I am sir. If you please excuse me, I’m trying to-”

“I will escort you to his workshop”

“To his work-Wait what?”

I looked at the clockwork in shock from under my goggles.

The Marine straightened itself up, but kept eye contact with me.

“You heard me Ms Galway. I will escort you to Bishop and his workshop, ma’am” The clockwork said.

I felt my blood run on the colder side of things as I fought the urge to run past him. I let out a shaky sigh before asking him, “Why are you doing that, sir? I’m sure you have much more important duties to attend to than help a human like myself.”

“Because of what happened yesterday. You were a witness of the fight that had happened and were in the middle of the chaos when my unit charged in. It’s the least I can do after making you go through that”

One your men could have not shot that poor mouse, I thought to myself bitterly.

But outwardly, I only nodded and bowed my head a bit. 

And for the briefest moment, I thought I could see the clockwork narrow its eyes, but it was gone in a flash.

Instead the golden mask Marine offered me his arm, to which I took and wrapped my arm around his. He adjusted a bit, before giving me a slight nod, to which I returned.

And with that, we made our way to Bishop’s workshop.

As we walked, I could hear the humming of his inner-workings, the soft clink of his gears, his joints shifting in place and what not.

And for the briefest moment,

I felt at peace with being near a clockwork.


End file.
